


Year of The Rat, Pig, and Dog

by InsomniacFlaaffy



Series: A Junker's Notebook [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9330566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsomniacFlaaffy/pseuds/InsomniacFlaaffy
Summary: "We rejects gotta stick together, huh?" Junkrat and Roadhog raise Scrappup as best as Junkers can. Though neither of them read up on how to raise a half feral kid who can summon dogs on a whim. They will be fine...hopefully.





	1. Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> These will be one shots for OCWatch Week 2017 over on Tumblr. It's the best way to break off into a prequel to the next big story. So enjoy a two grown men raising a kid only way they know how: with mayhem  
> The prompt for the first chapter was 'Firsts'.

_ Scrappup never had a birthday… _

With them, that is. The thought came to Junkrat in the dead of night, 1:48 A.M. to be exact. He shot up in bed, causing the blanket covering his body to fall off. His eyes darted around the small motel room. One side of the room was bathed in a cyan light filtering from the open shutters. Scrappup slept in a nest of blankets underneath the window and the air conditioner mounted in the wall. The moonlight hit the kid’s body at the right angle to monitor his breathing. In then out, slow and steady, just as it should be. Junkrat shook his head then focused on the tiny television on top of the mini fridge. He was watching the kid sleeping again. Habit, he thought. Some leftover habits he picked up from the Wastes. Ugh, he was getting sidetracked again, like always.

He turned his body towards the snoring mass of man sleeping beside him. Roadhog slept on his back with his mask still on and his hair undone. Strands of silver hair were spread out around the man’s head messily on his pillow. It was the only time Junkrat got to see the older man with his guard down. He shifted massive weight in the mattress and coughed, causing his belly to shake.

“Oi, Hoggie,” Junkrat whispered, poking the nose of his bodyguard’s mask several times. “You awake?”

There was a break in his snoring and Roadhog grumbled out a reply, “No.”

“Good!” said Junkrat while he climbed upon the man’s stomach. “I got an idea I wanna run by you real quick like.” He then laid his body parallel with Roadhog’s. His pointed nose brushed up against the worn leather of the mask. He was glaring at him, Junkrat could feel it.

Roadhog put an arm behind his head and lifted his mask from over his mouth. “At 2 A.M.?” His voice wasn’t muffled, but a low rumble now, like thunder. It reminded Junkrat of the seconds before rainfall, when the sky’s all grey and you can smell the rain in the air.

“Well yeah, mate! This is prime time to get the ol’ gears churnin’!” Junkrat quickly covered his mouth with his hand and slapped his arm stub over Hog’s lips. He leaned over and his eyes set on Scrappup again. The kid was still asleep, his foot twitched here and there sometimes. A sigh passed through the young man’s chapped lips and he rolled into the nook of Hog’s armpit. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout givin’ the little mutt a birthday bash. Gifts, cake, fireworks; the whole nine yards! Did I mention fireworks?”

“It’s just a birthday,” said Roadhog. “Don’t need to go crazy with it.”

Junkrat felt offended, lifting himself up to look the older man right in the eye. “Just a birthday, he says.” he mocked. “I don’t know if you realized, my honey glazed ham, that we have money comin’ out of the shitter. Nothing is stoppin’ me from givin’ this kid the best birthday he’ll ever have!”

“Never said you wouldn’t. Too much noise would overwhelm her. Scare her more than make her happy.”

Junkrat laid back in the curve of the older man’s arm, staring up at the ceiling. As much as he would blatantly ignore Roadhog’s advice and do his own thing, he wanted everything to go right with this party. This was Scrappup he was talking about. The kid deserved the whole world and much more. He poked the man’s right tit and asked, “So are ya in, Hog?”

“If I say yes, will you go back to sleep already?” There was no anger in his voice, but plenty of annoyance.

“Can’t make any promises, Hogwash.” Said Junkrat with a wink.

Roadhog groaned, “Better than no, I guess.”

Junkrat squealed and hugged the man’s side. “Thanks Hoggie! You wouldn’t regret this, I swear! We got our work cut out for us tomorrow! Ooo, this is gonna be great!”

“Rat? Hog?” A tiny voice called the men’s names.

With a swift flip on his lanky body, Junkrat turned to face the direction the voice came from. Scrappup sat by the side of the bed, eyes laden with sleep and blanket held close to his small body. The child rubbed his left eye with his free hand. “Rat?” he repeated and yawned.

“Ey Scrappy,” whispered Junkrat as he crawled out of the warmth of Roadhog’s hold. He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Did we wake you up?”

“Mhmm-mmm,” Scrappup grunted, shaking his head side to side. He raised his arms up to the man and said, “Help up.”

Junkrat was willing to fulfill the little kid’s request. Even though the kid knew how to climb without the use of both of his legs, it wasn’t strange for him to ask to be picked up. A hand slipped under Pup’s right armpit while he wrapped the bend of his more useless arm around the curve of the child’s side. He hauled the kid onto the single queen size bed.

“Hog,” Junkrat said, returning to his spot in between Roadhog’s right arm and large body. “We got company.”

“Uh,” Scrappup mumbled, climbing up the mountain that was Roadhog. His little fingers dug into tattooed skin but struggled to get right footing. Junkrat used his leg to nudge the kid up. With a little more effort, Scrappup managed to conquer Mt. Bacon. He curled up tight on top of the man’s belly and draped his blanket over his body. His head rested on Hog’s protruding belly button and close his eyes. Before anyone knew it, the little mutt was fast asleep again. 

Roadhog shifted his weight once more and kept his coughing to a minimum. He pulled his mask back in its rightful place and a deep sigh passed through its round filters. “Get some sleep,” he said. “We got shopping to do in the morning.”

There was a sparkle in Junkrat’s amber eyes when he said that. He could barely contain himself and went back to staring up at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t coming when his mind was racing a mile a minute, going over the mental list he made for the kid’s party. He’ll make the little fella so happy, he’ll drown in his joy.

 

“So many fuckin’ choices for goddamn pastries,” Junkrat mumbled to himself as he stared at the dozens of cakes behind the large glass case. Choosing boba was much easier than picking out a cake from some fancy bakery. It made him want to pull what hair he had left out. Too many choices,  _ too many choices!  _ His finger twitched over his Frag Launcher’s trigger and his hand slid down the glass display case, leaving dirty smudges behind.

“S-sir…?”

The shy voice caused Junkrat to raise his head from the assortment of sweets behind the glass.

It belonged to a timid, young woman behind the counter, trembling, almost vibrating in fear. He forgotten he had the barrel of his weapon trained on the poor girl. She probably didn’t get paid enough to deal with people like him.

“S-sir,” she repeated. “Is-is there anything that I can help y-you with? Please don’t hurt me or my shop…”

Junkrat held his mouth open, trying to gather his thoughts, until a heavy hand rested on his shoulder. Roadhog stood over him, which caused the woman to duck behind the counter. She peeked over the counter’s edge when she realized the man was not moving.

“Y-yes s-s-sir?” she asked sheepishly, forcing a smile.

“Cake, single layer, white.” Roadhog ordered, paused for only a moment, and then continued, “Chocolate filling, whipped cream icing, eight strawberries, and eight candles. Red.”

The woman stood up straight now with a puzzled look on her face. “Y-you’re not here to rob me?”

Roadhog replied with a cough and a crack of his neck.

“A-ah!” she said, standing at attention like a soldier. “Y-yes sir, I’ll have your cake prepared right away!” Then the woman rushed into the back of the small shop.

“Thanks mate,” said Junkrat as he scratched his cheek. “Got a little bit overloaded there. Didn’t know there was a ton of choices for a damn cake.” He opened up a small display case on the counter and shoveled one of the many cutely decorated cupcakes into his mouth. “It this cake ain’t perfect, I’m turnin’ this place to rubble.” He warned, spitting crumbs everywhere.

“Don’t,” was the only response he got from Roadhog.

“Aww,” Rat whined. “Yer no fun.”

The woman came back to the front counter with a cream colored box in her hands. She set the box down and stood up straight again, nose high in the air. “Your cake, s-sirs!” she stuttered, a nervous sweat ran down the side of her face. “I hope it’s-it’s to your liking!” She forced a smile upon her face.

Junkrat pulled the box in closer to him and opened its cardboard lid. It was everything Roadhog had ordered: a circular cake coated in white whipped cream, dollops of whipped cream topped with strawberries on the cake’s edge, and eight red unlit candles in the center. It took all of his willpower to not run his finger over the cake’s surface for a taste.

“Thanks mate!” he said and shut the cake box’s lid. He picked up the box, raised it over his head, and bolted out of the open shop door.

She watched Junkrat leave then looked up at Roadhog, who was still standing in front of her. When he reached up to his harness, the woman squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. She feared the worst.

“Thanks,” he said.

The woman cracked opened one of her eyes and looked down at the counter top. There were a few crumpled paper bills in front of her, money that seen much better days. She watched the large man leave and she let out a long sigh she held in the moment those two arrived.

 

“Keep yer eyes close!” said Junkrat as he led Scrappup by the shoulders

“Uh!” Scrappup replied, holding his hands over his eyes. He was told to cover his eyes ever since they left the motel room, even while sitting on Rat’s lap in the sidecar. The child was confused and walking through darkness, but he trusted Rat. Rat knew right, there was no reason to doubt him. His bare feet that were walking across the rough sidewalk suddenly touched smooth grass.

“We’re almost there!” the man giggled in his ear. 

Scrappup trembled with excitement. He wanted to lower his hands so badly. It was hard to keep himself under control. He was lifted up and lowered onto a wooden bench. A sweet, sugary smell reached his nose, making Scrappup grin.

“Alright, open ‘em!”

Scrappup’s hands dropped to his sides and his blue eyes grew large. They were all in a park, specifically in more of a secluded part of the park, away from strangers. On the picnic table before him was a white cake adorned with strawberries, lit candles, and sparklers stuck in it very sloppily all over. He looked up. Junkrat and Roadhog sat on the bench adjacent from him.

“Happy birthday, Scrappy!” Junkrat exclaimed with a grin. “I added the sparklers. Thought the cake needed to be more… _ festive _ .” 

He stared at the older man then returned Rat’s smile. Birthday, today was his birthday! He bounced up and down in his seat. He remembered birthdays with Ma and Pa; birthdays were happy times. Happy times with the most important people in the world to him.

“Well,” Rat said. “Blow out the candles! Clock’s tickin’!”

“Make a wish,” Hog added.

What did he even want to wish for? He scratched his head, deep in thought. Scrappup was never a needy person. He had all he ever wanted right here. The child stood up on the bench and leaned over the cake. He inhaled deep then exhaled, extinguished the candle’s flames. Tiny trails of white smoke rose from the candles and the men cheered.

“Whatcha wish for, kid?” asked Junkrat.

“No!” Scrappup shouted, pointing a finger at him. “Secret!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed and nudged Roadhog’s side with his elbow. “Hog, where’s Scrap’s present?”

He snorted.

His eyes widened and was taken aback. “What do you mean you left it in the motel room?!”

Roadhog only shrugged.

“Ugh, fine, whatever. We’ll give it to him later. Time for cake. I’m starvin’!” Junkrat grabbed the butcher’s knife on the table nearby and slammed it down on the baked good. Whipped cream splattered all over the place.

 

Scrappup watched the cars go by from the open shutters of the motel room. His hands laid on the air conditioner and he balanced on his good leg. Nighttime was best time to quietly watch the cars without being seen by strangers. Today was a good day, he thought. Cake, barbeque, and friends; he still could feel the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. With both the butterflies and Junkrat’s nasally snoring, Scrappup couldn’t get to sleep. There was a soft cough and Scrappup turned around. Roadhog was standing behind him with a package in his hand.

“Hog?” the kid said, confused.

He signaled the child to come closer and Scrappup did as he was told. He sat down in his nest and Roadhog bent down to the child’s level. He placed the package in Scrappup’s lap. It was a middle sized box wrapped up in silver wrapping paper.

“Open it,” Roadhog said but with his voice sounded more of an order.

Nodding, Scrappup tore into the shiny gift wrap. As he pulled the paper away, the biggest grin appeared on his face. It was a Pachimari but this particular stuffed toy was different of the other kind. The body of the onion creature was purple, its tentacles were dark green, and its face was a tan color with a mischievous smile sewn in with purple thread. He removed the Pachimari from its body with haste and gave it a tight hug. The toy let out a tiny squeak from its plastic squeaker inside its body. Scrappup set the Pachimari down gently and wrapped his arms around Roadhog’s thick neck in an embrace. He hugged the child and chuckled, patting the child’s head.

_ “Happy birthday, Morgan…” _


	2. Ups and Downs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for the second chapter was 'Domestic'.

Every morning, you woke up around the same time at 7 A.M. Your body was strange like that. Nothing was normal about you but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Made you blend together better with Rat and Hog, you thought. Like a big Junker smoothie, one that’s a bit warm from staying out on the counter for too long.

You lifted you head off your lumpy pillow and tossed the heavy comforter from off your body. Sleeping in only boxer shorts was the most comfortable way to sleep, you found out. It was something you picked up from Hog. Rat always slept naked. He was silly like that. He would put some shorts on if you slept with them that night though. It didn’t really matter to you what he wore to bed.

Your Pachimari and your prosthetic leg laid on the floor by the side of your bed. You picked up the stuffed toy and set it back in its’ rightful place at the head of your bed, giving one of its four tentacles a reassuring squeeze. You hated that it would always end up on the floor every time you woke up. Most likely knocked it off in your sleep. You apologized to the Pachimari. It only stared back at you with troublemaker eyes of its.

Next, you grabbed your prosthetic from off the floor. You could have gotten a new leg with all the money you, Rat, and Hog had stolen but you liked your old one better. It brought back memories and felt more comfortable than some high priced fancy leg. You changed your old ace bandages from your left leg with new ones you had on your end table, discarding the old ones on the floor. The prosthetic fitted on your leg like a glove; Rat did make it just for you. You gave the leg a good wiggle, set your feet on the carpeted floor, and stretched out your body. With a yawn, you left the warmth of your room and entered the hallway.

The wooden floor of the hallway creaked as you stepped foot on it. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold air hit you like a brick. You fiddled with the old wallpaper peeling off the wall as you passed it. The hallway was still dark except for at the end of the hall which led to the living room and where the other bedroom was. You took your time to walk to the bathroom. You weren’t in any kind of rush to get there. Not like you were racing Hog and Rat to get to the bathroom first. They would just walk right on in even if it was already in use. There wasn’t much privacy in this house.

The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar when you approached it. There was no noise on the other side so you just let yourself in. You didn’t close the door behind you all the way and flicked the light switch on the wall in the on position. The bathroom was messy and a little dirty, should it be with three Junkers living underneath a single roof. Your toes curled against the freezing while tile floor and you shivered again. You couldn’t wait for the whole house to get warmed up. Mornings were always cold and chilly.

You relieved yourself and flushed the toilet behind you. Rat made a bad habit of not flushing the toilet after he used it. Hog would get so angry at him because of that. You pulled out a wooden stool from under the sink and stepped up on it. Warm water gushed from the faucet into the porcelain bowl when you gave the sink’s knobs a twist. Hog taught you to always wash your hands after using the toilet. You lathed your hands in soap, scrubbed them twice, rinsed them off, and dried them on a towel hanging on the sink’s piping.

Your eyes settled on a cracked glass cup sitting on the sink. Three different toothbrushes were in the cup. Rat’s toothbrush was a grimy looking orange with its bristles curved outwards like it was used with much force. Hog’s toothbrush was large and brown, the bristles were soft for a man such as him. You toothbrush was of a red color and the bristles were firm. You grabbed your toothbrush and topped it off with blue toothpaste. The minty flavor of the toothpaste hit your tongue as you brushed your teeth. Suddenly, the bathroom door flung open. The sound made you jump then tense up.

It was only Rat with pants on, thankfully.

You relaxed and smiled at the man with a mouth full of toothpaste foam.

“‘Ey, ya mutt. Up already?” Rat asked, ruffling your hair a little. “Getting’ those fangs of yers sparklin’?”

You couldn’t help but to laugh and nod in reply.

“Good,” the man said with a yawn and positioned himself in front of the toilet. “Can’t have my prized show pup lookin’ like some junkyard dog!”

You blew the man a raspberry, getting some foam on the mirror, and then spitted in the sink. The water flushed away the white foam and you watched it slowly disappear in the dark hole. Sometimes, you wondered where the water when it went down the drain. Done with your task, you set your toothbrush back it the cup.

Rat came up behind you and admired himself in the mirror.

“Uh!” You snapped and pointed at the toilet. “Flush!”

“Okay, okay!” Rat mumbled as he went back to flush the toilet. “Man, yer worse than Hog.”

Sticking out your tongue at Rat playfully, you hopped off the stool and kicked it back under the sink. Rat scowled at you and lunged forward, hands reaching for you. You bounced out of the way and ran out of the bathroom faster than Rat could catch you. When you got to your room, you shut the door and kept your hands on it. You felt Rat run into the door and you couldn’t help but to laugh as he said something you didn’t quite catch. Rat could never catch you unless you wanted him to.

A pair of overalls laid on the floor by the door and you threw them on. They were ragged and old but they fitted in all the right places. You had to roll up the left leg so it wouldn’t get caught in your prosthetic. You threw opened the door and poked your head out, checking to see if Rat was still there. He was not. You smiled and headed for the kitchen, ready to face the day.

Breakfast consisted of a bowl of oatmeal topped with diced fruit and brown sugar. Though you were independent, you still let Hog make your breakfast. Every day he would surprise you with different fruit in your oatmeal, to mix things up, he said. When he sat your bowl on the table before you, you noticed that today’s fruit was peaches. The sweet orange fruit decorated that tan colored oats generously with sugar sprinkled over it. You dug into your meal with the spoon you were given. You had gotten used to using utensils but some lifestyles were hard to leave behind. Soon, you began to eat with just your mouth, lapping up the oatmeal and fruit with your tongue.

There was a grunt from across the table.

You lifted your head, chin dotted with bits of oatmeal. It was Hog, who had a cup of tea in his hand. With the back of your hand, you wiped away the food and licked it up. He didn’t like you eating like a dog, though Rat didn’t mind how you ate your meals. To please the man, you returned to using your spoon to eat the rest of your breakfast. He gave you an approving nod, perhaps a smile too behind his leather mask. You sipped casually on your glass of cold milk, kicking your legs under the table and looking outside the kitchen window. When you were done, you set your dirty dishes in the sink and ran off to the living room.

The living room was just a few feet away from the kitchen in another room. It had a couch, an old television, an armchair, and a bookshelf loaded with books. You hopped over the back of the couch and landed on its lumpy cushions with a tiny giggle. Snatching up the remote control from off the floor, you pressed the red button to switch on the television. You had a strange fascination with the world news. You never liked cartoons like other children. You were an oddball, many would say. Most of the things going on in the world you didn’t quite understand but you continued to watch.

An assassination, a rebellion, corruption, and blackmail; all these big words you didn’t get. The lady on the screen then started talking about omnics next, going on about protests and rights. The metal people, you remembered. Rat and Hog hated the metal people. You didn’t know why but Rat said many times that they ruined everything. Yet, you never seen them mess things up personally. Maybe it was a grown-up thing?

“Ugh, why are you watchin’ stuff on those overgrown toasters?” Rat grumbled, stealing the remote out of your hand and switched it to another channel.

You stood up on the couch and bounced on the cushion in anger. “Uh, uh, uh!” you growled at Rat then barked loudly at him.

“Words, Morgan.” Hog said as he entered the room and sat down in armchair with a grunt. “Use your words.”

You stopped bouncing and snorted, grabbing and pulling at your hair. Words made your head hurt when you were mad. You stomped and barked out more human-like words. “Me watch that! Me watch that! Me watch that!” you said.

Rat scoffed, “You don’t need to learn about omnics.” You heard the complete disgust in Rat’s voice. “All you need to know is that omnics are a waste of space and are better as scrap metal.”

You never had a reason to doubt Rat, he was always right. But now, now you weren’t so sure. Why should you blindly hate the metal people that you never met because Rat said so? What was Rat’s problem with the metal people anyway? You wanted to challenge Rat on his hate but you never did something like that before. Where would you even start? You sat back down on the couch in a huff with your arms crossed, defeated.

Rat plopped down on the couch beside you and he slung an arm around you. You grimaced and shrugged away from his embrace. Being around Rat made you feel…uncomfortable at that moment of time. You crawled from Rat’s side, slipped off the couch, and sat on the floor between Hog’s legs. There was a scowl on Rat’s face and his amber eyes narrowed when you did that.

“Aw, did I hurt yer fwellings?” Rat teased and flipped the channel again and again. “Can’t believe you wanna know about those rust buckets…” he muttered under his breath. “Soon you’ll want them to be treated like humans then start chantin’ about omnic rights and shit like a damn omnic lovin’ hippie.”

You had enough. “Shut up!” you shouted as you shot up in the standing position. Your hands were balled up into fists, you had your jaw clenched, and your teeth bared. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” you stomped your foot over and over. Hog tried to sit you back down with one of his large hand but you nipped at his fingers.

“I didn’t keep you around for you to turn into an omnic lovin’ loon!” Rat shouted back at you. His eyes burned with rage and his lips were upturned into a snarl. “I’m raisin’ you the right way! If you don’t like it, you can piss off and find another place to live at!”

Maybe you would. Without another word to Rat, you left the room and stomped down the hallway towards your room. You could hear Rat shouting some more, probably at Hog now, but you didn’t care to listen. The bedroom door slammed up against the wall as you pushed it open with force. Going over to your bed and getting to your knees, you pulled out a red duffle bag from the darkness from under the mattress. You packed several changes of clothes, placed your Pachimari on top, shoved your favorite blanket inside, and zipped the bag closed. Over your shoulder the bag strap went and you left your room for the last time.

You strolled back into the living room with your head held high and your chest puffed out. Hog stared at you when you reentered the room but Rat didn’t take his gaze off the television. You puffed out your cheeks in frustration and headed for the door. Your tiny hand wrapped around the doorknob and you looked back at the men.

There was nothing. No begging you to stay or no getting up to stop you from leaving. Nothing.

You turned the knob and opened the door. A tiny breeze blew against your face and ruffled your hair.

The men didn’t move an inch from their seats.

Fine, you didn’t need them anyway! You walked out the door and slammed it shut behind you. But you remained on the porch, back pressed firmly against the door. Why weren’t they stopping you? Didn’t they care about you? Tears stung your eyes and you squeezed them shut. Seconds turned to a minutes. A minutes turned to minutes. They weren’t coming, you finally realized. You ran off the porch sobbing, almost tripping and falling face first in the dirt. They never cared about you, the thought repeated in your mind as you rounded the side of the house. An old red and white bicycle leaned up against the house among some weeds and overgrown grass. You remembered Rat had stolen it from off the street just for you. You shook your head as you got on the bike and shifted the bag so it wouldn’t get in the way of your pedaling. You meant nothing to Rat, you had to remind yourself as you began to ride down the dirt road.

The distance between you and the isolated country house grew the harder you pedaled. The sun rose higher in the light blue sky, the wind picked up, and you wiped away your snot and tears with your forearm. You panted the faster you pedaled. Beads of sweat formed on your brow and the back of your neck. The cityscape lined the horizon before you, which was your destination. You were determined to get there no matter what.

You’ve been pedaling for well over an hour. Your legs felt like they were on fire. The dirt road had turned off to asphalt a while back, about a mile or so into your ride. The amount of cars that passed you grew the closer you rode towards the city. A few worried passersby slowed their vehicles and asked you either why you were by yourself or if you needed a ride. You gave them a glance but didn’t answer them. You didn’t need a grown-up’s help.

The local stray dogs began to follow after you entered the city limits. A bunch of mutts with no real home to go to; you always belonged in their numbers. You biked through the streets with your dog posse, scoping out the local shops for some easy pickings. You learned to do that from Rat, like always. You squeezed your handlebars in anger. Why did he have to find you that day? Everything you now did led all the way back to Rat. Stupid, stupid Rat.

You skidded to a stop in front of a shop, one that sold rows upon rows of freshly made bread. A smile grew on your face, you liked bread. You saw a bunch of steamy rolls laid out on the front counter. You looked around, not a single soul was around to guard the edible loot. Certainly easy pickings even for a kid such as yourself.

You dropped your bike on the sidewalk and left your dog friends outside as you walked into the store. A noise went off over your head when you passed over the threshold and you heard a voice come from the back of the shop. Crap, you didn’t expect someone to actually be here. Immediately, you grabbed the metal tray the bread rolls rested on and fled from the store. You heard a man’s voice yell at you but you dared not to look back. Some rolls fell off the tray as you scrambled to lift your bike up and escape. The dogs made quick work of the rolls that hit the sidewalk, gobbling down the bread and leaving no crumbs. You sat the tray on your bike’s handlebars and pedaled away as fast as you could.

Wobbly and slow, you could barely steady yourself on your ride. A raised section of the sidewalk caught your front tire and you went flying over the handlebars. The bread tray clattered across the pavement, bread went everywhere. You tried to catch yourself with your hands but you were quick to realize that it was a bad idea. The rough, unmoving ground tore through your skin and your overalls. Your palms were on fire and raw. Bits of your own tan skin hung off your hands and flapped about. Beads of blood began to form on your hands. Your knee and elbows were scuffed and bleeding too. Red, all you could think about was the red you were making. Just like Ma and Pa and all the red that they made. Tears flowed down your cheeks and you sniffled. You wanted to go back home. You wanted the bleeding and the pain to stop.

You wanted Rat.

“ _Raaaaaaaaat!_ ” you cried to the sky above your head. The dogs you called your friends only cares for the dirty rolls scattered around. Once the food was gone, they ran off. You were all alone again. All alone…

“There you are, you little thief!” You barely heard the angry man’s voice behind you until a hand grabbed the strap of your overalls. He was a short but muscular man who lifted you up to your feet and shook you a few times. “Think you can run from me, huh?! I’ll teach you a real good lesson!” His voice bellowed in ear. You had your eyes clamped shut and you thrashed about wildly. That mad bread man, you didn’t want to see his dumb face. You wanted Rat. You would take everything back all the bad things you thought and said about him. All you could do was cry for Rat to come save you like he always had.

“What seems to be the problem here?”

The new voice sounded so peaceful to your ears that it caused you to stop fighting. You opened your eyes and what you saw, or who you saw, caused your jaw to drop. It was one of the metal people! His body was made from silver and gold metal. You wondered if it was real silver and gold. His clothes, you never seen clothes like his before in your life. He only wore pants made of red and gold cloth with a strange tassel around his waist he used as a belt. His clothes were a bit ragged, just like your own clothes. Weird golden orbs floated close to the metal man’s neck and had symbols on them, ones you never seen before. He didn’t have any eyes, just two diagonal slits where eyes would be. The metal man had nine cyan dots on his forehead. You thought to yourself if they were buttons.

“Nothing I can’t handle, omnic,” The man said over your head.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off the metal man now. You were filled with curiosity at this new person in front of you. You barked at the metal man, bouncing about in excitement. The man pulled back on your overalls, causing you to choke a little.

“I do not think you should be rough with the child,” the metal man said. “She is injured and is in need of treatment.”

The man shouted, “I don’t care! This twerp is a thief!”

“And a thief can be redeemed, no matter how young or old they are.” The metal man replied. His voice didn’t change from his peaceful tone. “Release the child.”

“Like hell I am!” The man snapped and he pulled on your strap tighter, which made you yelp out in pain. “I’m taking this kid to the police!”

“That is not needed, friend. Let me have the child and I shall repay for any damages done.”

There was a pause then suddenly you were shoved forward. You caught yourself on the metal man’s pants and held onto them tight, like you did with Rat. “Fine, take the twerp then,” you heard the man grumble behind you. “Stupid kids…”

You stuck your tongue out at him, now retreating back into his shop. Goodbye, you hoped to never see that dumb man again. A pair of warm metal hands rested on your shoulders and you lifted your head up. The metal man was looking down at you quietly. Somehow, you can feel him smiling at you though he had no mouth to grin with.

“Come, little one.” The metal man said to you. One of his golden orbs drifted apart from his neck towards you. Your body stiffened as the orb floated closer to your head. It scared but amazed you at the same time. You let go of the man’s pants and reached out for it. The orb began to glow with some sort of yellow energy which it snaked out and touched your body. You shrunk back but after some time, you sniffed at the energy. It smelt of lemon, like the lemon candy Ma would give you. A happy memory. “We walk in harmony now. Let us talk.”

Harmony, the word echoed in your mind. You didn’t understand that word. The pain in your hands and knee had slowly faded. You felt calm and a little sleepy too. Was that what harmony was? You grabbed your bike from off the sidewalk and stood by the metal man, looking up at him. There was something about the man you could feel, something good and special. You could trust this metal man, no matter how much Rat told you otherwise. You walked at the metal man’s side, pushing your bike along with you.

“Do you have a name, little one?” the metal man asked you.

You answered proudly, “I’m Scrappup!” and smiled at your new friend. The name that Rat gave you, you would show it off like a trophy to everyone.

It made the metal man chuckle. “What an interesting name you have! You may call me Zenyatta, if you so wish. Do you have a home?”

“Yes…” you replied with a frown. “Me run away…”

“I see…” Zenyatta said, rubbing his fingers against his gold plated chin. “It seems that fate has brought our paths together.”

“Fate?” you parroted the man’s words. His words made your head hurt but in a good way.

Zenyatta nodded and said, “Yes, fate. We all flow upon our own rivers of life, endlessly through time. Our rivers have crossed at this point in time. It was meant to be. Now tell me, you did you feel the need to run away from home and steal?”

You frowned again and stared at your feet. You weren’t sure if you could say the truth to him but you could not, would not, lie to him. He was the third person you didn’t want to lie to. The first and second people were Rat and Hog.

“I understand if you do not wish to speak on that matter,” said Zenyatta.

“Rat say metal people are bad!” You blurted out. “Like you! Say metal people are better scrap metal! That’s why me ran away!” The anger you felt for Rat had returned hotter than ever. How could Rat hate someone as nice as Zenyatta?

“I see…” The tone of Zenyatta’s voice shifted. Sadness, it sounded to you. “By the glimmer in your eyes when you saw me, I could tell you never seen anything like me. What do you think about omnics, little one? Do you distrust me for who I am?”

“No!” You said immediately. “Yadda nice metal man! Yadda me new friend!”

Zenyatta laughed. “I am quite surprised you consider me as a friend. Such an open minded child. It is refreshing to meet someone such as yourself.”

“Master!” you heard a worried voice call out a ways in front of you.

“Ah, that would be my student.” Zenyatta said calmly as he locked his fingers together.

The voice belonged to another metal man who walked up to you and Zenyatta. You noticed that this particular metal man was very different from Zenyatta. This metal man was of a silver and lime green coloring than Zenyatta’s silver and gold. He didn’t wear clothes and where eyes would be was only a glowing visor colored green. This man didn’t feel as friendly as Zenyatta was and you stood in front of your new friend, growling at the new person.

“At ease, little one.” Zenyatta reassured you and rested a hand on your head. “This is my student, Genji.”

Student? The Genji looked down at you and you stared back at him. If Zenyatta trusted him then you could trust him too. You set your bike on the sidewalk again and cautiously went up to Genji. Parts of the man’s body looked more like armor than his own skin. You sniffed at him, circling around him several times. Genji didn’t smell completely of metal as Zenyatta did. It confused you. He smelt like both a human and a metal person.

“Master, you mustn’t walk off like that. I have been looking everywhere for you.” Genji said then he focused his attention on you. “Who is this child, Master? They are…sniffing me…”

 “This is Scrappup, Genji.” Zenyatta replied. “She is a curious one, isn’t she? I found her in need of my help when she stole some bread.”

Genji appeared shocked at the metal man’s words. He leaned in close to Zenyatta and whispered, “Master, are you sure about this? I do not know if we can trust this child.”

You stepped in between the two men and said with a grin, “Me hear you. Got good ears.”

Zenyatta set his hands on your shoulders again. “She means no harm to us, Genji. She is a very open minded individual, I found out. Never seen an omnic until now.”

You nodded and said, “Genjee Yadda’s friend, ya? But you not like Yadda or me. Smell like a pretty brown bird too.”

“I am my Master’s special friend,” Genji responded. “Master has taught me everything I now know. He has done a lot for me over many years.”

“Yadda cool,” you commented.

You heard Genji laugh and he said, “I agree.”

“Now,” Zenyatta said and he knelt down to your height. “I do believe you have somewhere to be.”

Looking back down at your feet, you knew what the metal man was talking about. You had to go back home. It was the only home you ever had. But would Rat want you back? Did he even miss you? Worry grabbed ahold of you like a monster with large hands. He would hate you if he found out you met a metal man. Then he would kick you out and you would stuck on the streets again.

Zenyatta held on to your hand and looked at you. “Do not let worry and fear freeze you in place, little one. Everyone has different opinions. You must keep moving forward even if those around you think differently than you do. Improve yourself and find your path to inner peace.” He then pressed his forehead against your own. You expected the metal man’s cyan dots to be cold but they were warm when they touched your skin. You swore you felt some kind of vibrations coming from them. “May you be one with the Iris…”

The metal man’s words; you didn’t understand them but did at the same time. You gave him a silent nod, stepped away from Zenyatta, and picked up your bike. The golden orb departed from your side and returned to its owner. You gave the two men a wave before kicking off and pedaling away. His words repeated in your mind as you rode down the street for the city limits. Was it really okay for you to have different thoughts from Rat’s?

“‘Ey Scrappy!” The sound of your name being called tore you out of your thoughts. You looked down the road in front of you.

The familiar sight of Rat and Hog on Hog’s motorbike brought tears to your eyes. You came to a sudden halt when you hit the brakes, skidding across the dirt road a bit. The bike went abandoned once more as you ran for them. At times, you stumbled and went back to galloping on all fours like you were used to. You leapt in the air when you got close to the two men. Rat stood up in his sidecar and caught you in his arms. The force cause Rat to tumble backwards out the sidecar and the two of you fell onto the dirt road.

Rat held on to you tight, close to his chest. He gave you a grin and said, “I didn’t know you were actually gonna run off!” He didn’t sound mad at you at all. Rat’s voice was more surprised than angry. “Scared me when you didn’t come back after a while. It was too quiet without my mutt…”

Your eyes widened and a smile grew on your little face. He missed you, Rat really missed you! You couldn’t contain your excitement. You rubbed your face all over Rat’s bare chest, wagging your backside wildly. The smell of soot, fire, and chemicals that clung to Rat’s skin; you missed it so much.

Rat sat up from the dirt and brought you up with him. He stared at you and you stared back, sticking your tongue out at him. “Let’s go home, yeah?” said Rat. “Forget all that bullshit from earlier. Whatever it was.” Rat’s gaze went vacant, deep in thought. “It was somethin’ that made me mad. Can’t remember…”

“Uh!” you agreed and nodded. No matter your or Rat’s opinions on the metal people, you still cared about you and he cared about you. Being mad at someone you love because of different thoughts and opinions now felt dumb to you. You wrapped your arms around Rat’s chest and nuzzled your cheek against his warm skin. Maybe that was what Yadda was talking about.


	3. One For My Baby(Mutt)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the last entry for OCWatch but I got stuck of the other prompts and only had the energy to write this one. Then I got sick. So have the "Darkness" prompt out of order while I have a fever.

First, it was just some skin peeling and a bit of hair loss.

Hot water began to fill the ivory bathtub as Roadhog twisted the faucet knobs to the left. He grabbed a bottle of body wash from the plastic bag of toiletries on the floor and dumped the soap vigorously into the water. The smell of lavender and steam wafted through his mask’s round filters, causing him to cough a little. A small hand rested on Roadhog’s knee and squeezed it. He turned his focus from the tub. It was Scrappup, standing between his legs as the older man sat on the toilet. The child had her eyebrows furrowed and her head was tilted to the side.

“I’m fine,” Roadhog reassured the child and shut the running water off. “Get undressed.”

“Uh,” Scrappup said and they sat down on the tile floor. She removed her prosthetic first, kicking it off to the side, and undid her ace bandages. Next was her leather reinforced harness around her chest. It took some time but Scrappup got it off and threw it on top of her prosthetic. Her clawed gloves came off and were added to the pile of the child’s equipment. Roadhog had to assist Scrappup in taking off her tattered pants and boxer shorts. She was quite comfortable with the older man seeing her naked. Probably rubber off from Junkrat, he thought. The young man was full of strange things, not limited to being naked half the time.

Roadhog lifted Scrappup up and eased her into the warm bubble bath. He poured some shampoo on one of his hand and worked a lather in the child’s hair. Both of his large hands would engulf Scrappup’s head, so he used only his right hand on the matted brown mess. As he worked the suds into her hair, Roadhog noticed the amount of hair falling out. Shedding hair was normal, everyone did, but coming out in clumps was not. Wet hairballs stuck to his fingers when he lifted his hand from her hair. He discarded the hair in the wastebasket by the toilet without alerting the kid. She didn’t seem to notice as she played with the soap suds. Scrappup’s hair didn’t reduce in mass when Roadhog rinsed it with the detachable shower head. Couldn’t even tell if the kid lost a bit a hair due to how thick it was.

He dipped a washrag into the bath water, poured soap onto it, and began scrubbing the grime off the kid’s light brown skin. While the dirt came off Scrappup’s body, so did her skin. It peeled off in patches, free from the caked on grime that kept it in place. Scrappup showed some kind of discomfort at his actions, scrunching up her face and scooting away from his hand. Roadhog tried his best to softly clean the child but still her skin continued to peel. The skin from her left cheek, chest, and right bicep fell off into the water. Pink raw skin was left behind and Scrappup looked up at the large man in silence. Roadhog stared back. He had seen the kid’s symptoms back at the Wastes but it could just be a fluke…

The dirty water, mixed with hair, dirt, and skin, drained away when he pulled the stopper out. Roadhog picked Scrappup up, set them on the floor, and went to grab a towel from off the rack on the other side of the room. Scrappup got on her hands and gave the older man a sly grin.

He knew what she was planning. “Don’t…” Roadhog said, moving closer to her.

Scrappup giggled as she shook her either body like a dog. Water droplets scattered all over the place Roadhog almost got wet if he didn’t shield himself with the towel from the assault. After she was finished, Scrappup just looked up at him and smiled. A sigh came out of his mask and he shook his head. He knew something like that would happen. He wrapped Scrappup up in the cotton towel and carried her out of the bathroom in his arms.

“Look at ya! All clean and smellin’ nice!” Junkrat commented as Roadhog sat Scrappup on the edge of the bed. “Like a show dog. More fun gettin’ dirt though, ‘ey Scrappy?”

“Uh…” the child replied with a yawn, rubbing her eye.

“First aid kit.” Roadhog said, pointing at the bags in the corner of the room.

“Oh?” Junkrat hopped off the bed and went over to the bags. He dug around through their belongings, causing a mess of everything. His search gave him a medium sized box and he tossed it at Roadhog, who caught it. “Gotta do some patchwork?” asked Junkrat as he sat back on the bed.

Roadhog didn’t response. He set the first aid kit right next to Scrappup and flipped open its lid. Creams and bandages lined the inside of the box. None of it was used yet since no one had gotten hurt until now. He patted Scrappup’s skin dry as gently as his large hands could. Didn’t want to cause more of the child’s skin to peel. When he was done, he rested the towel on her lap and tended to the gap in her flesh. Taking out a package gauze and tearing it open, Roadhog placed it on the child’s cheek and held it down with medical tape. He repeated the same with the spot on her chest and wrapped her arm up in a bandage. From the bed, he picked up a black sleeveless shirt and slipped it over Scrappup’s head. It was Junkrat’s, of course. He and Junkrat hadn’t had the time to go out and shop for children’s clothing yet. But the shirt hung off her body like a dress so it would do for now.

Scrappup took the towel, placed it on top of her head, and rubbed her hands around to dry off her wet mop. She shook her fluffy afro as she pulled off the towel and smiled at Roadhog. Dropping the towel on the floor, Scrappup hopped off the bed and hobbled towards her little corner of the world. She grabbed her favorite blue blanket, hugged her Pachimari, and turned over to go to bed.

Roadhog watched her the whole time. Watched her through the clouded lens of his mask.

Junkrat waved a hand in front of his bodyguard’s face. “Roadie, you feelin’ okay, mate? Yer starin’ at the kid real intense like. Somethin’ botherin’ you? ”

He didn’t say a word again. It was just some small side effects rearing their ugly head, he thought. The kid’s body would heal those wounds and the hair would grow back. Everything would be fine.

 

Next, it was complete loss of appetite and a fever.

The three Junkers made a pit stop at a local diner to refuel their stomachs after a long day of causing mayhem. Junkrat and Scrappup took up one side of the booth while Roadhog occupied the other side. Many people stared or moved away from the group, except for the waitress who had to listen to Junkrat’s long list of demands from the menu. The overworked waitress returned with their meals and sat the plates in front of them. Junkrat and Roadhog didn’t hesitate to dig into their food but Scrappup was different story. He just sat back in the booth and stared at the food on the plate.

It was after a while into his meal that Junkrat noticed the plate full of food next to him. He lifted his head from his meal and asked, “’Ey Scrappup, why aren’t you eatin’? It’s yer favorite!”

On the kid’s plate was a bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries and a chocolate shake to drink. Scrappup’s go-to when ordering food but today, he hadn’t even touched a single fry. He sipped here and there on the shake but the food remained untouched.

“Ain’t hungry, huh?” Junkrat concluded, placing a hand on Scrappup’s shoulder. The kid’s body was hot to the touch. Why hadn’t he felt it when he was sitting on his lap in the sidecar? “Feelin’ crummy?” he corrected himself and looked at Roadhog. “Hog, I think the mutt’s got the flu. Gotta get some medicine for that.”

Roadhog grunted in reply.

Scrappup leaned over and rested his head on Junkrat’s side. He could feel the heat radiating off the kid’s body. It was uncomfortable but he knew Scrappup wanted attention from him. He certainly knew he did when he was feeling sick.

“Just keep drinkin’ that shake of yers.” Junkrat ordered. “It’ll cool ya off.” He was no doctor but he remember you had to drink a lot when you were sick. Increase fluids or something along the lines of that. He learned it from overhearing Doctor Vega when she was tending to a patient with a cold. A cold and a flu were pretty much the same thing.

Scrappup replied with a quiet “Uh,” and took another sip from the blue straw sticking out of his glass.

“Good boy.” said Junkrat. “You’ll be back to prime shape in no time. Just you wait. “We’ll put yer food in a,” Junkrat snickered and continued, “… _doggy bag_ , fer later!” Immediately, the man howled in laughter and slapped the table.

Scrappup groaned and turned his back to the man.

“What?” Junkrat said through laughing. “It was funny! I couldn’t let a pun opportunity pass me!”

But missing a meal turned to missing two, three, and then four meals. Scrappup began to lose weight as his diet consisted of just liquids. His fever still lingered after taking over-the-counter medicine. Junkrat frowned. What a tough sickness this flu was but he knew his mutt could beat it. He survived getting his leg blown off. A flu was virtually nothing! Junkrat wasn’t too afraid. He believed in his mutt.

 

Then there were more symptoms, all of them back to back or at the same time.

Weakness. Scrappup was always a strong kid, carrying bags of Junkrat’s equipment around. Lately, the kid could only drag bags across the ground when it was time to load them on the motorcycle. Roadhog came to his aid when he saw him struggling. He helped the kid with his usual job, an easy task for the large man. Scrappup appeared saddened when he couldn’t do his own job that was given to him. He couldn’t even climb up into the sidecar with assistance. It was as if all his strength was sapped away from him.

Dizziness. Though Scrappup had a leg missing, he could walk fine with his prosthetic. Until he couldn’t walk properly anymore. He would walk a few steps before losing his balance and falling over. “Me dizzy.” Scrappup claimed as he hung on to Junkrat’s shoulder or his RIP-Tire. That ended with him falling off or over again. The rate Scrappup falling at random times grew until he couldn’t walk or stand by himself. Junkrat then had to carry him most of the time.

Vomiting. Scrappup couldn’t keep his fluids he drank down now. Well, the little amount of fluids he did managed to drink. Before, he was able to make it to a bathroom to empty his stomach. Now, Scrappup had to carry around a bag with him because the vomiting became so frequent and they were too weak to run to a bathroom.

One tough flu, Junkrat thought. Scrappup sat in his lap while he emptied the content of his stomach into the plastic bag. He rested a hand on the child’s back and the kid looked back at him when he was done. Junkrat frowned at the sight. Scrappup’s cheeks were sunken in, his eyes were cloudy and he didn’t quite look at him. A small trickle of blood ran down the corner of Scrappup’s mouth to the curve of his chin.

Junkrat slowly reached out and touched the blood with the tips of his fingers. He didn’t want to believe what he was seeing. Scrappup blinked slowly when the older man touched him, as if he wasn’t sure what was going on around him. Junkrat rubbed the blood between his fingers and stared at it. It was real, the kid’s illness wasn’t the flu at all. How long was he like this? How long did Scrappup suffer for him to brush it off as the flu? Junkrat counted the days in his head. 23 days, he had let the kid suffer for 23 long and painful days. 23 days of him causing mayhem while Scrappup quietly died by his side. What could he do now? He didn’t have Doctor Vega to fix him again.

A hand touched his shoulder and Junkrat looked up. It was Roadhog, standing over the young man as he cradled the child. Junkrat chuckled nervously and said with a shaky smile, “’Ey Hog, guess what? The kid doesn’t have the flu! Ain’t that swell?” His nervous laughter tapered off and he went quiet.

“Rat,” Roadhog said. “Hospital. Now.”

All Junkrat could do was nod and follow after his bodyguard.

 

The scent of cleanliness and the complete white interior of the hospital lobby slapped Junkrat in the face when he rushed through the open automatic glass doors. He never like hospitals even when he was small. The smells, the feeling of death lingering in the air; it made him uncomfortable. He looked down at Scrappup in his arms; the hot, barely moving child he was happy to call his mate. He had to do this. He had to break through his fear to save his mutt.

Junkrat stormed up to the receptionist’s counter. “I need a doctor and I need a doctor now!” he demanded as he slapped his hand down on the counter’s surface.

“Well sir,” the receptionist sitting behind the counter said as she pushed as clipboard in his direction. “I’m going to need you to fill out this paperwork before we can see anyone.”

“I don’t have time for that shit!” Junkrat exclaimed. “I need a doctor now!”

“Look buddy,” the receptionist said as she leaned forward towards him. “You’re not the only person here who needs medical attention. Now take a seat, fill out the paperwork, and maybe you’ll see a doctor by tonight.”

Junkrat gritted his teeth together in frustration. He didn’t have time for paperwork or passive-aggressive women. Holding Scrappup closer to his chest, Junkrat stormed pass the receptionist’s desk and pushed through the double doors. He heard nurses and others shout after him as he began to run down the hallways. Faster he ran, peg leg and boot squeaking across the clean tile floor. Junkrat had no clue where he was going, looping around corridors and avoiding nurses. White coat, he had to find a person in a white coat. He took a tight turns and his peg leg slipped out from underneath him. Down Junkrat went sideways, trying his best to avoid getting the kid injured. His arm and shoulder crashed against the cold floor. Scrappup fell out of his arms, hit the floor, and slid a few feet away from Junkrat.

His arm stung as he scrambled to get back up to his feet. It was going to leave a nasty bruise in the morning.

“There he is!” he heard a man’s voice behind him shout.

He looked over his shoulder. Uniformed men were closing in on his location and fast. He gathered Scrappup up back in his arms and continued running down the hallway. Where were all the doctors? Did they lockdown the hospital when he stomped through the checkpoint? He was met with dead end when he reached the end of the hallway. Junkrat paced back and forth, looking for a way to escape. Sadly, there were no rooms for him to duck in and lay low for a while.

“Rat…” Scrappup said. His voice was strained and weak.

He looked down at the child and turned on his heel. He had to go back, there was no other way. When he turned, he froze in his tracks. Four uniformed men had their pistols out and pointed right at him. Junkrat took a step back. How could he let these pigs corner him?

“Put the child down, turn around, and walk towards us with your hands behind your head!” One of the hospital security officer shouted at him.

“What? No!” Junkrat retorted. “I need a doctor. My kid’s dyin’!”

“Do as you are told, boy!” Another officer said. “You got a lot of nerve coming to a hospital. You’re a danger to everyone and we are not falling for your criminal tricks!”

They thought Scrappup dying wasn’t real. They thought he was lying. “Don’t you fuckers get it?” Junkrat shouts and took a step forward. “I’m ain’t playin’ a game here! I really need a doctor! My kid’s going to die!”

“Boy, if you do not comply, we will open fire on you.” The same man in the beginning warned.

Tears of frustration welled up at the corners of Junkrat’s eyes and he squeezed them shut. “Why won’t you fuckers help me?!” he screamed. “Why don’t you drongos understand?!”

A metal hook dragged the officers off their feet as Roadhog appeared, sending the men down to the floor. Their weapons fell out of their grasp and skidded across the tile to god knows where. They trembled in fear and kept quiet when the massive man passed them by. They were a daring lot but not stupid enough to mess with a guy that looked like Roadhog. His mere shadow crawling over the group sent shivers down their spines.

Roadhog now stood in front of Junkrat, who sat on the floor with his knees drawn up close to his body, protecting the child in his arms. The young man was crying, snot running out his nose and tears rolling down his cheeks. He looked up at him and Roadhog grimaced. God, he was an ugly crier.

“W-what are we gonna do now, Hoggie?” Junkrat’s voice shook as he wiped his tears with the palm of his metal hand. “No one’s gonna care for the kid while he’s with a bunch of wanted criminals! Kidd’s gonna die, Hog! And it’s all these fuckin’ people’s fault!”

“I know someone,” Roadhog commented.

Junkrat shot up to his feet. “Who, Hog?!” His voice strained as he shouted. “I’ll give up my good arm and leg for anyone to fix my mutt! I’ll hug a damn omnic if that’s what it takes!” He looked down at the child passed out in his grip. “I just want Kidd to smile again…” he mumbled.

“Overwatch.”

The word that came from Roadhog cause Junkrat’s eyes to grow to the size of dinner plates. His eyes darted about as he tried to gather his jumbled thoughts. Never had he thought he would need their help. Hell, they should be begging for him to join. But if that was what it took to save the kid’s life, then he’ll take the bait.

“I don’t know how you got in touch with them,” Junkrat said, rubbing his nose. “But I learned not to be askin’ questions when it comes to ya. Just make the call already, Hog.”

 

Those Overwatch people did not play around when it came to a medical emergency, Junkrat found out. Especially when the medical emergency involved a child. From Roadhog, he learned that they would come to their location as soon as possible with their medic but had to take the kid back to their base. Like hell he was letting his mutt out of his sight with a bunch of strangers. He left all the packing to Roadhog as he still held Scrappup while he sat on the edge of the bed. His leg bounced up and down as he stared at the wall clock in silence. It ticked on and on. Agonizing, it was. What was taking them so damn long?

Scrappup was still alive, thankfully. His breathing was noisy and labored. Blood sputtered out from his little mouth with every cough. Junkrat was quick to swipe it away with his metal thumb. The kid would mumble something to him, complete and utter gibberish, but Junkrat replied like he could understand every word. He knew the kid was completely out of it, to ease the sickness. Rat felt the same confusion when he lost his leg and arm long ago. He could sympathize.

There was a knock at the door. It was a quick series of knocks, actually. Junkrat could tell it was in the tune of a song but didn’t think too much on it to figure out which song. It had to be those people from Overwatch, no doubt about it. Junkrat began to stand up but Roadhog raised his hand to him, motioning him to sit back down. The large man’s hand went around the brass knob, turned the knob, and opened the door. Light from the afternoon sun flooded into the dark room. Junkrat couldn’t see who was in the doorway since Hog was blocking his line of sight.

“Hiya big guy,” Junkrat heard a cheery woman’s voice say. “Overwatch is here to save the day! Now where’s the medical treatment needed?”

Roadhog stepped off to the side, letting more light into the room.

Junkrat got a better look at who the voice belonged to. It belonged to a brunette who wore her hair short and spiky, probably held up by hair gel. A small tan flight jacket covered her torso and orange skin tight leggings dressed her slender legs. ‘Tracer’ was printed in white on her left thigh. Some type of metal contraption Junkrat had never seen before was strapped to this woman’s chest. Its leather straps outlined her breasts and the its center glowed a light blue. She dashed towards him when she noticed him on the bed. Dashed was an understatement. The woman virtually teleported to his side in the blink of an eye. It made Junkrat jump how fast this woman was.

The woman pulled the orange goggles from off her eyes. She frowned as she looked at Scrappup. “I ain’t a doctor but the little fella doesn’t look so good.”

Junkrat recoiled at the woman’s words. “What?!” They were supposed to bring him a doctor!

The woman lowered her goggles back over her eyes and raised her hands up in defense. “Whoa, calm down there, love. I’m just the pilot bringing you three back to base. My friend is the doctor around here!” The woman ‘blinked’ back to the door and poked her head outside. “Double time, Angela! You gotta quicken your pace, love!” She told a person Junkrat could not see and immediately ‘blinked’ back to his side. Damn, he wasn’t getting used to that.

“I swear Lena,” another woman’s voice said just outside the motel and the owner of the voice came to view. “Not everyone can manipulate the time around them like you can.” The woman was a blonde just like Junkrat himself, hair tied back into a neat ponytail. She wore a white button up blouse, a black skirt, and a white lab coat to bring together the ensemble. She was pretty for a doctor.

The doctor, Angela he learned, came up to him. “Mister Fawkes, I presume?” she asked as she knelt down.

“The one and only,” Junkrat replied but his voice didn’t have its usual luster to it. “Can you fix up my kid?”

Angela extended her arms towards him. “May I?”

Junkrat pulled Scrappup close to him and stared at the doctor. Never had he let anyone lay a single hand on the kid.

“I assure you that I am a qualified doctor, Mister Fawkes.” Angela said with a warm smile. “Top of my graduating class, actually.”

“R-right, yeah.” He mumbled and slowly slid Scrappup in the woman’s awaiting arms.

She held the child like a mother would with her own offspring. He was her balance Scrappup’s legs on her knees as she used her free hand to dig in her coat pocket. Angela took out a pen from her pocket and she clicked its button, causing a light to turn on. Her delicate fingers parted the child’s lips and shined her light into his mouth. Some noise came from the doctor and she moved upward. The doctor then opened one of Scrappup’s eyelids and shined the light right on his eyeball. Surprisingly, Scrappup made a tiny whine in protest and weakly move a little in her arms. Angela let the child’s eye close once more, turned off the light, and returned the pen to her pocket.

Before Junkrat could ask a single question, Lena spoke up. “What does it look like, doc?” She asked. “What’s ailing the little guy?”

“Receding gum lines, dilated pupils…” Angela went on, rubbing her chin. “It’s hard to say. Could be many diseases. We will have to go back to the Watchpoint to run tests.” The doctor stood up to her full height of about five foot eight. “I must inform you, Mister Fawkes, that these tests cost resources. And resources cost money.”

He knew what she was going on about. Junkrat stood to his full height, causing a small reaction from the pilot and the doctor. His height always was covered up by his poor posture. He went over to the duffle bags Roadhog gathered on the floor and picked up one particular bag. Without another thought, he dropped the bag at the Angela’s feet. The bag’s flap fell open, revealing a large number of stolen money and jewelry inside to the doctor.

“Money ain’t a problem, doc.” Said Junkrat. “Just fix my mutt up, yeah? I-I ain’t really got anywhere else to go.” He would give up all his treasure just to heal the kid. When he first met that kid in that junkyard, all thin and dirty. Never thought he would give away his loot to save his life. Funny how love makes people do stupid shit, showed that they cared. And Junkrat cared a hell a lot about Scrappup.

 

The drop ship Overwatch brought to pick up the Junkers was small but rather fancy model of airship. The inside was compact and cozy for a foundation made up of high class heroes. It had basic amenities, a place to relax, and plenty of glowing orange panels of unknown use that tempted Junkrat to touch them.

When Lena ‘blinked’ ahead of the group to the front of the ship, Angela pulled a strap on the wall which caused a bed to collapse. She rested Scrappup on the bed gently and got to work. Junkrat slid into the booth on the other side of the ship to observe the doctor from a distance. From another wall of the ship, Angela took out one of the green tanks of oxygen and hauled it over to the child’s side. She strapped it down to the wall, removed a mask from above the tank, and fitted it over Scrappup’s nose and mouth. It was when the doctor anchored the kid to the bed with multiple straps that Junkrat tensed up. Made him remember why he disliked hospitals and being sick in general. Hated being stuck in the same place for a long period of time.

The doctor’s heels tapped against the floor as she took long strides to get to the seated men. She slid herself next to Junkrat. Her body turned around to the files on the shelf behind her head. She fingered a few folders before taking out a white file folder and opening it. “Now Mister Fawkes,” Angela said, taking out a pen. “I will ask you some questions about the child. Please answer them to the best of your ability.”

“Alrighty, doc.” Said Junkrat.

“What is the child’s name?”

“Scrappup! Pretty good name for the little mutt, if I do say so myself. Used to call him Kidd when I first met him.”

Angela rested her pen on the table. “Birth name, please, Mister Fawkes. This information is important.”

He froze, jaw slack and eyes staring off in the distance. He searched everywhere in his mind for the kid’s name. Surely he heard it before but he was coming up empty handed.

“Morgan Shea.” Roadhog replied.

“Oh yeah. Thanks Hog.” The young man mumbled.

“Thank you,” the doctor said as she jotted down the child’s name on top of the paper. “Sex and age of the child?”

Junkrat gasped, “Doc, my kid doesn’t do that sorta thing! He’s only like, what, seven?” He then giggled to himself.

The doctor’s lips were pressed firm into a straight line.

He scratched his cheek and chuckled. “Yeah, bad time fer jokes. Dunno, actually. He kinda responses to anything and everything.”

“Female,” Roadhog answered again.

It took Junkrat by surprise. “What? Really?”

The large man nodded.

“Uh, yeah…” Junkrat’s voice trailed off he looked down at his hands. First, the kid’s name, now the kid’s sex. What else did he make up to fill those holes in his memory? What was real and what was just what he wanted the kid to be? He never asked what the kid wanted to be. Scrappup, Kidd, was Junkrat’s creation, like a bomb or mine. The kid wasn’t even his own person.

“Now let us move on.” Angela announced. “To figure out what Morgan has, you have to tell me her symptoms.”

“Well,” Junkrat started. “Scrappup kept pukin’ up everything he puts in his mouth. And only wanted to drink then started pukin’ up blood after that.” He looked over at Roadhog and asked, “What else was the kid dealin’ with?”

“Weakness, hair loss, skin peeling, and dizziness.”

The doctor noted what the men said and stated, “From the environment you three come from, it is possible that Morgan may be suffering from radiation poisoning.”

“Thought it would be worse…” Junkrat commented.

“But with the internal bleeding, loss of appetite, and labored breathing, one or more of her organs could be ruptured or failing.”

“Oh fuck…”

“I can’t make sure unless I take x-rays.” Angela added. “If it comes to that, surgery would be the best option. The less invasive surgery would be good for her little body. She’ll heal quickly even with radiation poisoning hampering her healing. Sadly, organs and finding organs that Morgan’s body won’t reject are hard to come by and will take too long. I suggest artificial organs for her.”

Junkrat just stared at Scrappup as the doctor went on with her fancy medical talk.

“Mister Fawkes,” Angela said as she slid the paper in front of him and slipped the pen in his hand. “Please sign here for consent with Morgan’s treatment since it appears that you are her legal guardian.”

“Legal’s kinda stretchin’ it.” Junkrat said, scrawling his name on the dotted line. “The kid’s parents are long dead. Took him in under my wing. Didn’t have time to make it official.” He passed the pen and paper to Roadhog. He signed the paper also and passed it back to the doctor.

“Thank you boys.” Angela said, placing the paper back in the folder and closed it with a smile. “That will be all for now.” She got up and went back to Scrappup’s side.

She was good at her job, Junkrat had to admit. Even if he didn’t know half the things she was talking about. And that Lena girl, she seemed nice enough. Scrappup needed structure, not insanity and mayhem. He was selfish, only thinking about destruction while his kid was wasting away in front of his eyes. And the doctor was so…selfless. Taking care of a child of no good criminals, she could have rejected his pled for help.

“Oi Hoggie. I’m not usually the best person for ideas.”

“I’m listening,” the large man said.

“I was thinkin’ we should just…” He didn’t want to say it but he had to. “Leave the kid here with Overwatch. He’ll be better in their hands. He almost died in our care.” Junkrat rested his chin on the table. “I’m a piece of shit guardian, Hog. He’s better off without the crazy ol’ Junkers. Maybe we should do a disappearin’ act so he can’t find us.”

“You know she’ll be pissed when she finds out we ditched her.” Roadhog commented.

Junkrat replied. “Yeah, he’ll hate my guts for sure. Rather have him wantin’ to deck me ten years later than dead.”

“Bet Morgan can kick your ass by then.”

“Keep dreamin’, Pig Face. Keep dreamin’.”


	4. The Dog and The Frog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's prompt was "Adventure"

Bright and vibrant colors always caught your eyes. The same was with the poster your eyes were now glued on. It was a larger poster posted in a shop’s window you had almost passed by. Green, the whole poster was made up of different shades of striking green. A man with a dazzling smile across his face stared at you from the poster. It was a warm smile, very inviting even. He was nice looking, you had to admit. Beneath the man was a series of letters in fancy font together to create a single word.

First is was an L, then a U with a strange mark over it, a C and I were next, and finally an O. You blinked several times. The gears in your mind began to turn. Hog and Rat taught you how to read simple words and letters. Though it was still a difficult concept for you to grasp.

“Loo-See-O…?” You slowly sounded out the word and pressed your hands against the glass. Something inside of you, a burning sensation, told you that you needed to see and meet this man. “LooSeeO…” You said with more confidence and pushed your whole face against the clean glass. Your heavy, hot breath fogged up the clear surface.

“Whatcha got yer eye on, kid?” You heard Rat ask directly behind you. “Scoopin’ out a new place to hit?”

You managed to pull your sight from the poster and grabbed the tall man’s metal hand. “Uh, uh, uh!” You grunted and jumped up and down with excitement as you pointed at the poster.

“What caught yer fancy, Scrappy?” Rat asked and he brought his eyes to the poster as well. His amber eyes squinted at it for a moment then his eyes widened. “’Ey, I know this bloke! Yeah, the Brazilian DJ! Snagged his music off a rack a few months back. Pretty good stuff, I gotta say. Needs more bass though.”

“Me see him! Me see him!” You chanted.

“You wanna see him?” Rat looked down at you and back at the poster. “Yeah, I think we can do that. Bet a famous guy like him has lots of money with marketin’, concert tickets, and merch.” The familiar wicked grin appeared on Rat’s face. You knew he had a plan from that. “I think we should pay the DJ a little visit for a _personal_ show. What do you say, Scrappup?”

“Yay!” You cheered and ran circles around Rat’s feet. You returned back to the store’s window, looking up at the poster once more. A smile grew on your face to match the poster man’s smile. It was only a matter of time before you would see that smile in real life.

 

It was night when you, Hog, and Rat made it to the concert location. Really late too; you would be asleep by now if you didn’t want to see the music man. The concert was in a large building. Not a skyscraper, it was round like a bowl. Lights shined all over this building, flashing into the dark city sky. Rows and rows of unmoving cars occupied the lot in front of Hog’s bike. You climbed up on Rat’s shoulders and perched your hands on top of his head. You noticed that all these cars surrounded the building. How many people were here to see the music man? You heard faint sounds coming from the building but you were too far away to make it out clearly.

“Place’s got tight security in the front,” Rat pointed out. “Go ‘round back, Hog. We’ll make a grand entrance from the stage. Wanna see the looks on everyone’s faces as a bunch of criminals crash their party!”

Hog replied with a grunt and eased off the bike’s brakes. The bike rounded the perimeter of the building, out of the sights of the shadows you saw at the entrance and out of the street lights’ view. Darkness was a great cover, especially for a person of your skin tone. Due to that and your small size, you hid better than Rat and Hog. The bike came to a halt, tucked away in a dark corner.

There were large trucks at the back of the building. The kind that carried lots of good stuff in them. Three men stood by one of the trucks, chatting amongst each other. You saw that one of the men had on a uniform like a cop, the weapon on his hip and the badge were a dead giveaway. The other two seemed like normal guys wearing bright green shirts.

“Just a little security and a couple of stage hands.” Rat said. “Nothing we can’t handle. Scrappy, do what you do best!”

“Uh!” You said, jumping off of Rat and landing firm on the warm asphalt. You wouldn’t let Rat down, you were his secret weapon.”

You rolled around on the ground for a bit, getting your body extra dirty. This was step one of your trick. Next, you worked up a good cry. You brought up the darkest thoughts and fears to make your eyes water and caused tears to flow down your face. When the snot began to drip from your nose, you made your way towards the men. They didn’t stand a chance against you.

You approached the men on two legs, wailing and wiping the snot away with your arm.

“What are you doing here?” One of the green shirted men shouted as you got closer. “Get lost, kid!”

“What a minute,” the second green shirted man said. “Look at the kid. He’s filthy and all scratched up! Someone’s been hurting him.” The man knelt down to your eye level and held out a welcoming hand to you. “It’s okay.” He said in a kind voice. “You’re in safe hands now.”

You took the stranger’s hand and smiled a little, wiping the tears away with your free hand. He fell for it, what a sucker. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth several times. _Click, click click click, click._ The man whose hand you were holding didn’t notice the noises you made. Dummy.

Your nose twitched, you could smell your friends getting closer to your location already. Your friends were always good at finding you, no matter where you were.

“Let’s go find your parents,” the man told as he stood up again.

“I’ve seen this kid from somewhere…” muttered the man dressed in the police uniform. He glared at you with intense eyes and scratched his chin. “Not many kids are missing their left leg…”

You blinked. Once, twice, then three times. What was the officer talking about?

The officer’s eyes grew large the more he looked at you. He leaned his are to a small black box attached to his clothed shoulder. With a push of a button, he spoke to the box, “We have a…suspect in the loading bay. The kid from the wanted posters.”

You felt you heart plop right into your stomach like a heavy rock. The trick couldn’t fool an officer who had seen your face before. Then your furry saviors arrived to get you out of your tight spot. Two large sized, gray colored, rag doll mutts came to your side and barked wildly at the man still holding your hand.

The man jumped back, releasing you and back on the ground. Your friends growled at the three men and herded them until they had their backs against the truck’s side. The officer started to reach for the weapon on his hip. Your body stiffened and you held your breath. You couldn’t let that pig hurt your friends.

Before you could leap into action, the curved part of Hog’s hook smashed into the officer’s face. The sheer force alone caused the officer’s head to slam against the truck. Teeth and blood flew out the man’s mouth. The hook retracted and the officer crumbled to the asphalt, moaning and gurgling on his own blood. The two remaining men stood together, huddled close and trembled in fear. Something stirred within you when saw the complete terror in people’s fear. While Hog and Rat laughed at others’ fear, you weren’t sure how to feel. You wanted to laugh with them but it didn’t feel right. It was confusing and made your head hurt.

“Think we can lock these two up in the back of this here truck,” Rat commented as he tapped the truck’s wheel with his peg leg. “Don’t want them callin’ for backup and all that.”

Rat and Hog disposed of the two stagehands while you and your friends watched from the sidelines. You watched them rough up the scared men, forced them inside the truck, and slammed the metal door shut. Hog grabbed a metal pole from off the ground and jammed it through the door’s latch. The door rattled, you heard the muffled and panicked voices of the men within. They weren’t getting out any time soon.

The rumbling of the music from inside the building grew louder as you, your friends, Hog, and Rat entered from an emergency exit. It led to a clean, empty hallway left unguarded by security. Posters of many, many different performers decorated the walls as you passed them. All of people you had no clue who they were. Haven’t paid too much attention to music on the radio. They never held your interest for long.

You let your mind wander while your body went on auto pilot, following behind Rat and Hog. Was LooSeeO a nice guy? You hoped so, he looked nice on his poster. Maybe he would even talk to you! Your excitement rose as the music grew in volume. The noise vibrated through your body like a gigantic wave crashing down on top of you. Your heart beat in sync with the sounds and your stomach twisted in knots, but in a good way. All your excitement and anxiety mashed together as you, Hog, and Rat left backstage and stashed yourselves behind various music equipment. It was joy, hot and colored orange to you.

You saw LooSeeO with your own two eyes in front of you. He looked just as amazing as he did on that poster. His hair was long and flowing, tied back high in a ponytail holder, bounced with each move he made. His skin was clear and a darker shade of brown than yours. A nice color. His voice caused your heart to skyrocket as he cheered on the crowd of many people at his feet.  There was a sparkle in the man’s brown eyes, it was like something from out of a fairytale. Green light danced on his fingertips, swirling in the air with his hand motions. You swore he looked at you from the corner of his eye. Your eyes met for just a second before he returned his sight on his fans. Warmth crawled up your neck to your cheeks and made butterflies flutter in your belly. You needed to get closer to him.

“Let shut this party down,” Rat said to Hog.

On command, Hog smashed a metal box underneath his massive booted foot. Electricity sparked and arced out of control from the destroyed box, popping and smoking too. All the power to the stage’s equipment had been cut off, leaving the DJ confused and the audience murmuring.

“Alright, nobody panic,” the DJ reassured the concert attendees. “We’ll get everything back in working in just a sec!”

“I don’t think so, mate,” Rat said as he sauntered on stage. He pointed the barrel of his Frag Launched at the smaller man. “Yer comin’ with us!”

People in the crowd began to scream and shout.

Lúcio raised his hands up in defense and said, “Whoa, hey! Now let not get hasty, man!”

Rat faced the crowd and hollered, “Scram, all of you! This is a private venue now! Get the hell outta here or I’ll turn you all into a smokin’ crater!”

The concert goers did not wait for Rat to demonstrate what he was talking about. They rushed out of the main area, climbing over each other and pushing to get out of immediate danger. Rat always knew how to clear out a room in seconds.

Rat led the DJ towards the back of the stage, passing by you and your friends as they did. Again, you swore he looked at you. Quickly, you ran after them. Hog bounded the man’s wrists together behind his back with rope and set him down on the floor. You edged yourself closer, the heat in your face rising again.

“Wonder how much money yer rep people are willin’ to pay for yer freedom.” Said Rat, pacing around the DJ.

“So that’s what this is all about?” Lúcio said as he wiggled a little in his binds. “You crashed my concert and scared my fans off for ransom money.”

“They money’s just a _tiny_ added bonus,” Rat explained, still pacing about and swinging his weapon from side to side. Then he stopped to point over at you, “My little mutt wanted to see the great Lúcio in the flesh.”

He looked at you again. This time, he was staring right at you. You buried your face in the pelt of one of your friends to hid from those big, brown eyes. Something about those eyes made you feel…strange.

Hog grunted.

“Oh yeah?” Rat answered. “Thought it would take them longer to get here.” He turned his attention to you and ordered, “Keep our little frog friend comfy. Got it, Scrappy?”

“Uh!” You said with your chest puffed out in confidence.

Rat laughed and loaded ammo into his weapon. He gave Hog a nod of his head and both of the men left you on your own. You believed they were going to get rid of the security you saw out in the front of the building. They probably called reinforcements too. Famous people caused the police to go crazy, you heard Rat say before.

Now you were all alone with LooSeeO. Never had your body shake like it was now. He was looking at you still and he flashed you a smile. His teeth were white and perfect, unlike your uneven and yellow teeth.

“Hi,” he greeted. His voice was cheery, not mad or sad at the situation he was in. “Wanna see something cool?”

Cool? You cocked your head to the side at his words. Your dogs tilted their heads the same way as you did.

Lúcio leaned over on his back and rolled his arms in their sockets. He pulled his arms underneath his body, tucked his legs through the small hole, and brought his tied hands to the front of him. “Ta-da,” he declared and sat back up. “Pretty cool, huh? Took me a while to learn how to do that. Gotta be very flexible to pull it off.”

Shocked, you started barking at him and ran quick circles around him. How did he do that? _How did he do that?_ It completely amazed you. Was he magic?

You stopped in front of him, staring at him. Your heart was racing a mile a minute. He was a pretty man and you never said that about anyone. Your hands rested on his knees and you began to sniff his face. Your friends came over to do the same. LooSeeO’s smell made your nose tingle. He smelt like oranges and other fruit of that sort. There was something else mixing with the citrus scent. Coconut, maybe? You kind of wanted fruit now.

“You’re a strange kid, aren’t you?”

You removed your nose from his skin and looked at the man. Did you overstep your boundary? He was still all smiles though.

“Nothing wrong with that.” Lúcio continued. “Makes the world a better place. Things would get boring if everyone was the same.” He shifted his wrists against the tight rope.

You frowned. You could tell from the look on his face that the rope was causing him some kind of discomfort. Hog tied his binding way too tight, it was making his wrists red. You had to do something. LooSeeO was a nice guy. The sharp metal of your clawed gloves sliced through the rope with ease. You pulled the rope away with your teeth and tossed it off to the side. The dogs ran for the rope and fought over it, tugging back and forth.

“Thanks,” the man said, rubbing his wrists. He seems happy to be free so it made you happy. But a sudden question from the music man caught you off guard. “Why did you let me go though? Won’t your friends get mad?”

You blinked a few times, letting his question swim around in your tiny, simple mind. Yeah, Rat would get mad, maybe Hog too. Releasing someone who could get them lotsa green stuff meant you wouldn’t get the green stuff. Really, you didn’t care about the green stuff, the pretty jewels, or the shiny gold. You loved the thrill of it all. The action, the way your heart raced when the police are after you, fighting them off, and tricking people; that’s what mattered to you.

“Hog tie rope too tight!” You answered. “Rope hurt LooSeeO! Me fix!”

Your reply made him laugh. His laughter was light and airy, like a fluffy cloud. He ruffled your hair just like Rat did. “Thanks for looking out for me.” Your friends abandoned their game of tug-o-war and padded up to the man. Their heads were bowed, awaiting their pets too. He placed one of his hands on each of the dogs’ head and rubbed them with vigor. Their tails wagged as fast as they could from the gesture. “These two are your friends too?” he asked.

“Uh!” You said with a nod. “Best friends! Like Rat and Hog!”

“Why do you hang around with dangerous guys like them?”

Another question you weren’t expecting him to ask. How did he keep catching you off guard? Rat and Hog were the only thing you had close to family now. Had been for over a year now since you left the Wastes. They were your everything. They killed, stole, lied, destroyed, smelled, and were a complete mess. You wouldn’t trade it for the all the food in the world. “Hog and Rat family,” You finally said. “Ma and Pa gone…” You closed your eyes. You could barely picture their smiling faces in your head. That’s why Hog kept that ragged photo album, so you could remember.

“I’m really sorry to hear about that…” Lúcio was frowning, his voice was now just a whisper.

You opened your eyes and fiddled with you prosthetic. He rested his hand on your shoulder; it was warm and soft. You weaved your fingers in between his larger fingers and you nuzzled your cheek against his skin. You somehow knew that LooSeeO understood how you felt. The pain, sadness, and loneliness; your heart felt connected to his.

_“Did you see how far I sent that car?! It went flyin’ about a hundred, two hundred feet in the air! Majestic, I tell ya!”_

You shot up to your feet, LooSeeO looked at you puzzled. Rat and Hog were coming back. Good thing your hearing was incredible. You couldn’t let them have him. It would tear your heart apart if you saw them rough up the nice music man.

“Uh, uh, uh!” You barked at the older man, bouncing up and down frantically. “Up, up, up!”

“What –?” Lúcio got to his feet also. He placed his hands on his hips. “What’s got you heated, little guy.”

You barked louder at him, “Go! Go!” and headbutted him in the shin several times.

“Oh, you want me to get outta here!” he exclaimed.

Yes, he got it! “Uh!” You grunted again. “Go! Out!” Your friends barked in agreement.

Instead of running like you told him, he dug around in his pants pocket. You were about to bark at him again until he pulled something out. It was a metal pin; small, green, and in the shape of a frog. He dropped it in your hand and curled your fingers over it. All you could do was stare up at the pretty man. The heat in your cheeks returned with more force and your stomach did backflips.

“Thanks again for looking out for me.” He said. “Take care of yourself and don’t get into too much trouble. Okay?”

You only answered with a quiet, slow nod of your head. LooSeeO gave your head one last ruffle and high tailed it to the nearest exit. He stopped at the doorway, gave you a friendly wave goodbye, and disappeared down the hallway.

You unclenched your hand and set your eyes back on the cute frog pin again. You fingertips brushed over the glossy green surface and looked back at the exit. The pretty face of LooSeeO still lingered in your mind. His presence left a big impact on you. His smile, his smell, his hair, and his eyes. You held the pin close to your fast beating heart and closed your eyes with a blissful smile on your face. You would cherish this little gift forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Scrappup's crushing hard~


	5. A Pig's Lament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of Overwatch OC Week. Thanks for reading my work. This chapter's prompt was "Story"

The whole day he had spent it on driving. Driving through the rolling dunes of the Outback, only stopping for piss breaks and water. His muscles ached from sitting in the same position for too long. His head throbbed as a result of dealing with the others’ constant whining and complaining. He wasn’t paid enough to be both a bodyguard and a babysitter. Perhaps he would call it ‘additional work’ or even ‘overtime’.

He stopped the group at a large cave located in a valley when night began to fall. He stashed his bike behind some dried out bushes. It was the perfect place to hide out, have a meal, and get a good night’s rest. There was even more driving ahead of him in the morning. Lots of driving and seeing the same landscape pass him by repeatedly. Boring as hell.

He let Jamison prepare the group’s dinner with the hot plate he had available. For someone as scrawny as the young man was, he certainly knew how to cook. Canned food was heated and litter critters were roasted over the red coils. While Jamison and Morgan at the cooked lizards and bugs, he stuck to eating a can of mixed vegetables. He had other ways of getting his protein, like with rice, beans, and soy.

A small fire was created near the opening of the cave and he volunteered from night watch duty first. Needed to clear his head but he didn’t tell the others. They didn’t need to know. Jamison and Morgan didn’t object and went in the cave to set up their sleeping mats. Good, he wanted them to agree to his offer without question.

Time passed. The nasally snoring of Jamison behind him buzzed in his ear. Warm, orange light reflected off him from the fire several feet in front of him. His large body blocked most of the light from spilling into the cave and prevented the chilled outside air from coming in. Behind the dark lens of his mask, his eyes were closed. He wasn’t snoozing. No, he was thinking. Thinking about the words Vega shouted at him before he left Haven in the dust.

_You ruined them, Mako!_

He inhaled then exhaled. It came out as a drawn out hiss through his mask’s filters. It was the ALF’s fault as a whole group, not his fault alone. She knew that very well. But she had to turn it around and bury him in all the blame. Maybe because he was the only one part of the old federation she could vent her lasting frustration on. Vega was always an angry woman. The side of his face beneath the mask began to sting and burn as he recalled decades old memories. It always did that when he thought of that life changing event and the days leading to it.

“Hog?”

His body went stiff and his eyes opened as his name was called. The owner of the voice stepped, or hopped, in his line of sight. It was Morgan. Bags had formed under her little blue eyes and she hadn’t bothered putting on her prosthetic. She was looking up at him.

There was a moment of silence then he spoke up. “Couldn’t sleep” The question rumbled like thunder in the distance.

“Uh,” she replied and sat herself down beside him. She leaned her body to the side and rested her head on his knee.

“Another nightmare?”

She nodded slowly. The poor kid woke up in a sweat almost every time she went to bed. He knew that the nightmares were the effect of recent trauma.

“Hmm…” Another roll of thunder. “C’mere.” He ordered.

She climbed over his leg and made herself comfortable in the gap of his legs. She wiggled around a bit so his cod piece wasn’t poking at her sides.

The two watched the flames dance in the breeze for some time. He took a piece of scrap wood from a pile nearby and tossed it into the fire. It gobbled the wood up with a crackle and the fire spat out embers into the air.

“Wasn’t always like this.” He broke the silence. “All this surviving, running, and killing.”

Morgan perked up and lifted herself to a sitting position. She put her hands on his belly and looked at him puzzled. Probably had no idea what he was talking about.

“Years ago, before you were born, this place was home. Good place to live if you were a hard worker. No radiation, no one dying left and right.” He shifted his weight in the dirt and threw another piece of firewood into the awaiting flames. “People wanted to take away our home, give it to the omnics. We didn’t want that. Some protested. Government didn’t care. Gave our home to them anyway. Protesters joined together, sabotaged the Omnium, and caused it to explode. A lot of people died in that explosion. I would know…”

His fingers reached behind his head and Morgan watched patiently. Clasps undid and leather straps fell on his shoulders yet his hand over his mask still kept it in place. Finally, he let his façade down and set the mask down on the ground next to him. Half of the man’s face was covered in burn scars going diagonal across his hardened face. Part of his nose was missing but he still had a golden hoop hooked in his nose despite of it. His eyes were tired and sad, the opposite of the tough guy such as himself. “I was there when it all happened.” He finished saying.

Blue, curious eyes stared up at his sad, red ones.

“You could say I helped turn the Oz the way it is now…” he said. “A complete hell on Earth.” Vega was right. If the Omnium didn’t meltdown and if they just let the omnics have the land, maybe Morgan and Jamison would actually be normal human beings. He closed his eyes again and sighed, “Sorry you had to be born and live in a place like this.” She and Jamison deserved a better life than this. He did ruin them. Killed their parents. Caused them so much pain. How could he even forgive himself?

Morgan touched his face. Her tiny fingers fingertips brushed over the rough stubble that lined his jaw. He was certain she didn’t understand his words. He saw it in the clueless look on her face. She rubbed her face against his, the same way she did with Jamison. His hot breath huffed on her skin, along with a throaty chuckle. Morgan then pulled her face away and gave him a smile.

It took a moment be he smiled back at the child. “You don’t care about all of that mess, do you?” he asked her, lifting her up in the air.

She stuck her tongue out and ran it across his cheek.

He sat her down in between his legs and placed his hand on her back as he went back to watching the fire. “You’re a simple kid, you know that? The smallest thing will make you happy.” He fitted his mask back in its rightful place. “Someone’s going to use that against you someday.”


End file.
